


All Tangled Up In Obligations

by persimonne



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Aftercare, Anal Fingering, Anal Play, BDSM, Blindfolds, Dominant Rey, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Hurt/Comfort, Illnesses, Jedi Rey, Kinbaku, Mention of Anidala, Mention of Ventrobi, Mention of blood, Mention of minor ships, Oral Sex, Praise Kink, Secret Relationship, Senator Ben Solo, Senator Kylo Ren, Shibari, Submissive Kylo Ren, This is a pro-vax fic, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-01
Updated: 2019-01-01
Packaged: 2019-09-21 05:03:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17037146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/persimonne/pseuds/persimonne
Summary: Senator Ben Organa falls ill and his Jedi bodyguard Rey has to take care of him, becoming his nurse. When he feels better again, she helps bring to life one of his most secret fantasies.





	All Tangled Up In Obligations

**Author's Note:**

  * For [CadomirBane](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CadomirBane/gifts).



> Dear CadomirBane, I loved your prompts so much that I've decided to combine elements from the first two:
> 
> Prompt 1: Kylo has a bad cold and Rey becomes his nurse until he feels better.  
> Prompt 2: (NSFW) Rey leaves Kylo tied up all day while she's at work, with nothing but a vibrating plug inside him that she can switch on and off all she wants.
> 
> I hope you'll have fun while reading what I came up to! I had a blast while writing <3
> 
> The lovely Kylorenvevo/Diasterisms helped me with this fic, betaing and correcting every error. 
> 
> Megilins gifted me with this beautiful cover:

 

Senator Organa’s first sneeze happens in the turbolift, during their ride to one of his neverending reunions. Rey is with him, a couple of steps behind as is usual when they visit Coruscant. She snorts loudly instead of uttering the customary _bless you, Sir_ she would have said if they’d had company. He blows his long, irritated nose into a vine-silk handkerchief (what a waste!), being careful not to smear his white foundation, and turns to his stoic bodyguard.

 

“You were right,” he mutters, causing a satisfied smirk to bloom on her face.

 

“Care to elaborate?” she teases him.

 

“I shouldn’t have met that anti-vax delegation from Doan without vaccinating myself first.”

 

“This is the sweetest validation, Senator. How are you feeling?”

 

“Like a rathar tried to nest in my nose and lungs. How should I feel? I will take part in this reunion, then I would like my appointments for tomorrow to be canceled.”

 

“I will reschedule every appointment for the rest of the week, then,” she smiles.

 

“Rey.”

 

“Ben,” she warns him, a stern tone altering her otherwise sweet voice.

 

“I yield. Do what you want.”

  
  


Rey starts to worry when the senator starts coughing during the reunion. Everyone around him begins to fuss, bringing him fresh water and small herbal lozenges. If they were alone, she would allow herself to fuss over him, too, but she has to play the part of the stoic Jedi now. She has to remain behind him for the whole time, and physical contact in public would be deemed highly inappropriate in their situation. During working hours, their relationship has to remain strictly professional. A senator and his Jedi bodyguard.

 

She skims through their Force connection, checking on his health: he seems confused, both cold and hot at the same time, and he’s concentrating on breathing with his mouth without smearing his red lipstick. But more than anything he longs for her touch, eager for them to finally leave the reunion, seeking shelter in the luxurious apartment the Neo Republic has provided them with. When those doors are closed, they don’t need to hide behind their public masks anymore, simply existing as _Rey_ and _Ben_. Partners, mates, lovers.

 

The only thing that has never changed is Rey’s role in Ben’s life. She’s his rock, his protector, his guide. It doesn’t matter if she’s ten years his junior, or if she comes from one of the poorest planets in the Western Reaches while he was born to riches and honours. Looking at them from an external perspective, they seem totally opposite, and between the two, he’s the one always looking at her like she hung the sun in the sky. But at the moment his red-rimmed eyes have huge problems focusing on anything, so, before returning home, she accompanies him to the infirmary of Coruscant’s senatorial palace.

 

Senator Organa sneezes again before the medical droid can take a blood sample for his test, and the syringe’s needle curls on itself, making it impossible for the poor 2-1B unit to draw the necessary amount of blood. Rey doesn’t know if she’s more amused or worried about the event: powerful Force users such as Ben and mysterious illnesses from the Outer Rim don’t mix well, apparently. She can only hope that there is already a working cure for this; otherwise, as his caregiver, she will have to face a hell of a ride.

  
  


“Sir, you have Idolian fever,” drones the doctor, a purplish skinned Twi’lek, her eyes unnaturally huge behind heavy spectacles. Ben looks first at the near-human, then at Rey, his eyes lost and fearful.

 

“What kind of therapy should we follow?” she huffs at the doctor, barely refraining from hugging her ward. Unfortunately, there are witnesses in the room, and she can’t allow any kind of scandal to spread. _No physical contact of any kind in public_ , she reminds herself.

 

“There still isn’t an official therapy available, but several medical teams present in my database recommend avoiding stressful activities, consuming light and healthy meals, and resting as much as possible,” begins the droid. “Research on random samples shows that the course of the disease ranges from a week to three months, depending on the patient.”

 

“Just what I needed,” whispers Ben, defeat in his voice.

 

“The only things that can work in these cases is prevention,” concludes the Twi’lek, and Rey concurs, cursing her partner’s recklessness.

  
  


Rey doesn’t even have time to close the apartment’s door behind them when he’s already on his knees, his long arms embracing her thighs; he nuzzles her flat stomach, smearing his white makeup on the light tunic she wears during work.

 

“I missed you,” he almost gasps. “So much.”

 

“I’ve been right behind you,” she patiently replies. “The whole time.”

 

“But I can never touch you, and it breaks me.” One of his hands crawls towards her centre, but he doesn’t dare touch without asking for permission first. “Please.”

 

Rey huffs, still undecided about what to do with him. “No,” she finally replies. “You disobeyed me when I told you to get vaccinated.”

 

Ben looks at her, his eyes red-rimmed and liquid. “Am I in trouble?”

 

“Yes, you are.”

  
  


After the second coughing fit of the day, he finally falls quiet, sitting on their huge, soft bed. Rey is kneeling besides him, removing the make-up from his face with a wet wipe, careful around his irritated nostrils. Under the red lipstick, his full lips are dried and cracked, and she kisses them softly, making him finally smile. He’s tired, and it shows.

 

He barely keeps his eyes open when she helps him put his pajama pants on, and she has to help him remove his earrings before they get caught in his t-shirt. She can’t remember seeing him this disheveled: he’s getting worse by the hour, and she receives nonsensical flashes from his hazy brain. Her presence, the only constant in his visions.

 

“‘love you,” he slurs, eyes already closed, feverish body cocooned by the softest bantha wool blankets. Rey caresses his face, his consciousness already lost in his dreams of her.

  
  


The following day he doesn’t wake up, and Rey is beside herself with worry. His heartrate is a bit slow but it beats nonetheless, and he breathes regularly but  remains unconscious. She calls his name repeatedly, she shakes his shoulders, she even slaps his cheeks (lightly, since he’s ill), but without any significant results. Frantic, she calls for the medical droid, and it arrives after almost an hour, after she has already gnawed on every nail and cuticle available. The 2-1B unit takes Ben’s temperature, his blood pressure, and another sample of blood. After a few minutes of processing, it declares that the senator is not in danger. Apparently, sleeping for an unusual amount of time can be an uncommon symptom of Idolian fever, but it is a symptom nonetheless.

 

“There are similar cases registered in my database: there is proof that a man from Doan  slept for a month and a half, five years ago,” announces the droid. “By the way, Senator Organa will surely get worse before getting better. The doctor said that there’s no reason to worry, the Senator is a healthy young human and his chances of a quick and unproblematic recovery are around 98%.”

 

Rey isn’t happy with this notion. At all. After the droid returns to the infirmary, she checks for further informations about Idolian fever on her datapad, but the only record she can find is the vague summary of an ancient legend from Doan:

 

_Nearly twenty years after the_ _New Sith Wars_ _, the_ _Doan_ _Prince_ _Gerran_ _contracted a mysterious illness, asking_ _his father_ _to contact their_ _healer_ _,_ _Serra_ _, to cure him. She nursed Gerran back to health over the course of three months and by that time, the two had fallen in love. The two married and Serra became the Princess of Doan._

 

Their story, romantic as it may seem, doesn’t end well: the prince dies during an airspeeder accident, and she disappears after a couple of months under a collapsed mine. Rey snorts. She can’t even imagine living with Ben stuck in a delirious coma for three whole months.

  
  


Ben begins trembling, still unconscious, during the afternoon, and Rey curls up in bed with him, hoping to give him a bit of solace. It doesn’t work. His skin is burning and he dreams again, his sleep plagued by visions. When she embraces him from behind, loud flashes get transferred directly in her subconscious. They’re together, in a field full of flowers. She’s wearing a yellow dress she doesn’t like at all, and he’s spouting nonsense about how the Galaxy needs a benevolent dictator more than anything. Him. A senator of the New Republic.

 

The ensuing flash arrives after a couple of hours, and is unequivocally sexual. He’s on his back, wearing torn training clothes of the wrong colour (he would never wear beige!), and she’s riding his cock. He begs her, and she grabs his neck, choking him until his face becomes ashen, and he comes again and again, his whole body spasming beneath her. He thanks her, a hand caressing her shaved head. But she never cut her hair in her life, and she’s not sure she would ever try anything so drastic. Is Ben receiving other people’s memories through the Force? She hopes he’ll get better soon.

 

He finally wakes up during the night. She’s always been a light sleeper and things have only gotten worse since she became his bodyguard a couple of years ago, so she’s just about awake when he opens his eyes. She silently thanks the Force. He’s alive, and she hopes he’s feeling a bit better, at least.

 

“Don’t leave me,” he whispers, still delirious.

 

“Never,” she reassures him, hugging him with all her strength.

  
  


The following day, he’s lucid enough to answer the simple questions she asks him while she brushes his long, luscious hair, but he’s still not able to fully control the Force. He breaks an ugly (and probably expensive) vase just by looking at it, and when she helps him in the bathroom, all the faucets get randomly turned on and off. These outbursts are still harmless enough, and she smiles when they happen. She finds his drowsy movements adorable, and she tickles the soles of his feet to make him forget his weakness. His laugh is almost a squeak, his lungs not healed enough, but the sound warms her heart.

 

He still sends her visions during his sleep. Sometimes it’s still confused episodes (of someone’s else life, she keeps guessing), but his sexual dreams are more prominent now, every single one of them featuring a somehow incapacitated Ben. Nothing they haven’t already tried, but the most curious thing is that Rey is not present anymore in these fantasies of his. Every time he wakes up, he’s so hard that it only takes a couple of strokes to make him come while random objects in their apartment vanish or crumble into pieces before her eyes. He thanks her profusely, grateful, falling asleep again in a matter of seconds.

 

One of the most recurring visions involves him being hogtied in a convoluted pattern of red ropes, immobilized on their bed. She doesn’t seem present, but someone or something is making him writhe and moan, his thick precum flowing copiously from his stiff cock, staining his pale abdomen.

 

“What’s up?” she asks him the first evening that he manages to sit on the bed and eat a few spoonful of warm broth. “Your dreams are quite graphic lately.”

 

“Are they?” he asks in kind, befuddled. “I can’t remember anything when I wake up.”

 

“You always dream of being incapacitated. There are these beautiful red ropes, and you’re tied up on our bed.”

 

He stops eating. The tips of his ears flush red and he looks at his bowl of soup, suddenly very interested in the few pieces of meat stuck at the bottom of the bowl.

 

Rey doesn’t press the matter further.

  
  


They make love on the fourth morning, after he wakes up hard as a rock, his pajama pants stained with precum. He’s strong enough to fuck her while spooning, and she allows him this treat, as if to celebrate his convalescence. He asks her permission before coming, and she doesn’t concede it before pressing a finger on the side of her clit while he lazily penetrates her soaked cunt. While he’s emptying himself inside of her, their bedside lamp vanishes all of a sudden, and after coming, he sleeps for hours, like a child. She gloats between his arms: now that he’s mostly coherent, she tries to enjoy their lazy mornings, his senatorial tasks suspended until further notice.

 

The dream returns, more clear this time. She isn’t present, definitely. What makes his cock slobber precum everywhere is some kind of plug nestled in his ass, his whole body spasming around it. He’s flushed, his wide chest alive with pink blotches that run up towards his neck and cheeks. She’s burning to ask him if this is a particular fantasy he would like to reenact with her help, but the last time she’s mentioned it, he seemed very uncomfortable with the notion that she could see what he was dreaming about. Usually she’s the one taking the initiative and directing their scenes, and he loves to obey her directions. He gets off on obeying her.

 

She caresses his cheekbones, his eyelids fluttering for a second. Now that she thinks about it, he’s never asked for anything in particular during their sessions. He lives for being taken care of and ordered around, but she has no idea about what he really craves.

 

They’re not new to rope play, but it already was something introduced by her, and their ropes are natural, not blood red like the ones he dreams so much about. Maybe it’s the right time to listen to his subconscious. She summons her datapad with the Force, and orders straight away a good length of red ropes. She’s more hesitant to buy him a new plug (they already own several of those, in different shapes and colours) without asking first, but then she orders a discrete, vibrating model. It will be her present, if he will finally complete his vaccination program like she’d urged him several months before. Her main problem remains breaching the subject to him.

  
  


The following day, Ben wakes up with Rey’s naked thighs around his head.

 

“Make me come,” she orders him, and he’s strong enough to seize her hips, pushing her down until he has a mouthful of wet cunt to play with. Rey moans, stretching herself over his prone body until she meets his stiff cock, still trapped in his soft pants, and begins caressing it lazily. He probably already knows that he’s not allowed to come until she does, so he simply keeps licking at her now soaked folds, parting them with his huge fingers. At one point, she extracts his erection from his tented pants and slowly mouths at it.

 

“I want you to complete you vaccination cycle after you’ll be up and about again,” she announces, kissing his length. “Will you be my good boy?”

 

Ben moans while sucking at her clit and she smiles, knowing well how much he craves being praised by her. Under her lazy ministrations, his cock twitches, and she slows even more.

He attacks her cunt with more vigour, and dares penetrate her with one of his digits, seeking moisture between her slick folds. She doesn’t protest. Without stopping his work on her hard nub, he slides his now wet finger between her cheeks and penetrates her ass, finally triggering her orgasm. She clenches around him, gushing all over his chin and stroking his cock with renewed vigour. He comes too, after she calls him _good boy_ again, making another lamp vanish from the second bedside table.

  
  


They cuddle, wrapped up in their luxurious wool blankets. Ben is a step away from falling asleep again, since worshipping Rey is still a quite strenuous activity for him.

 

“I want to be,” he starts. “Your _good boy_ , I mean. I want to be your good boy.”

 

“You’ll get your vaccinations then? You won’t be working until the end of the month, I rescheduled every appointment.”

 

Ben nods, his eyes almost closed.

 

“I will give you a present, then. For being the best boy in the whole Galaxy.” she smiles, and he can’t help smiling, too, a faint blush spreading on his high cheekbones.

  
  


Ben's convalescence proceeds smoothly. Two weeks after that fateful meeting with the delegation from Doan, he can finally get up, wash himself, and eat without help. His outburst are less frequent now, and overall less destructive. This also means that he doesn’t dream that often anymore, or he manages to keep his most secret fantasies to himself now.

 

She can still catch images and sensations when he sinks into deeper sleep, but the clarity and the scenes from the first visions he sent her are not there anymore. The only thing that remains is the desire of being helpless, still perceivable through their Force bond. But when she asks him what he would really like to try, his hard cock in her hand, his only answer is, “Whatever you want”. This spurs her on to put her plan in motion.

 

“Bring me your vaccination certificate and we will do _whatever I want_ , then.”

 

He gets his shots a couple of days before returning to the Senate to complete his work, still suspended because of his absence. They’re in a turbolift again, headed to the meeting rooms, and he gives her an envelope with his vaccinations certificate. She opens it right there, since they’re alone, and, proud of him, she praises him (through the bond, of course) when she reads that he’s finally protected against most of the contagious illnesses going around in the Galaxy. _Good Boy._ He smiles too and his white foundation crinkles faintly around his eyes, making her heart jump in her chest. Unfortunately, their interaction has to stop there, since there are cameras in the turbolift cage, and she reluctantly takes a step back from him.

 

She waits until his day off to set her plan in motion.

  
  


“Prepare yourself for tomorrow afternoon,” she’s warned him during the previous evening, after his Senate’s committee. He obeys her, as usual, and the following day she finds him stark naked, kneeling in their bedroom. He looks smaller than he actually is, head bowed, gaze fixed on the ground: he’s waiting for her. She doesn’t address him, taking a couple of minutes to disrobe herself and retrieve a box containing the gear she put together for the upcoming session. She dons some of the comfortable clothes she usually wears at home, turns up the heating in the bedroom, and joins him.

 

He doesn’t look at her until she calls for him.

 

“Ben.” He lift his head, looking at her with his liquid, expressive eyes, and her heart skips a beat. Taking care of him is one of the few things that makes her feel complete. She will never be alone again.

 

“I want you to look in this box, and tell me if you want me to use these on you,” she continues. We didn’t talk about this, but I know that you want it. I’ve seen everything.”

 

Head bowed again, he takes the box she offers him and, after lifting the lid, he begins squirming. His fringe is covering his features, but she can clearly see his ears turning red in a matter of seconds. He doesn’t close the box, putting it in front of him, its lid still open, and nod vigorously, eyes still covered by his hair. Skimming the bond, she can clearly perceive his excitement, tinted with a hint of humiliation. His shyness is surely compelling, but he should learn to speak for himself, sooner or later.

 

She approaches him, catching his chin in her hand and swiping his hair from his face. She can finally see him now, his high cheekbones are as red as his ears, and he still tries to avoid her gaze.

 

“Speak,” she commands. “I’ve seen your dreams. Do you want me to use the items in the box on you?”

 

“I- Yes. Yes, please,” he stutters, too embarrassed to finally admit what he really craves.

 

“On your feet,” she orders him, and he swiftly complies, his now hard cock jutting proud from between his powerful thighs. “Remind me of your safeword.”

 

“Vader,” he whispers, looking at the ground.

 

She takes the red rope out of the box and the scissors they always keep on hand when they play, joining him to tie his long hair up in a simple bun before beginning. The design he’s been dreaming about is pretty convoluted, and she hopes to give that justice, since she still considers herself not fully experienced on that matter. She takes a length of rope in her hands, sighing.

 

After locating the middle of the rope, she drapes it around his nape, bringing the two parted extremities around to his front and knotting them together four times, from under his jugular to above his pubic bone. She slaps lightly his thighs, and when he opens his legs a bit, she separates the two ropes, passing each one around his stiff cock, reuniting them between his buttocks and looping them around the portion behind his neck. He lift his head, looking at the ceiling.

 

“Is this too tight?” She can’t see his face but he shakes his head. There is a pearl of precum on his glans.

 

She keeps working, wrapping the twin ropes first under his armpits, then over his pectorals and between the first two knots, returning on the back to thread them under the central one, in the middle of his broad back. He helps her, moving his arms and letting her work around his torso undisturbed and, after she finishes with the harness, she surprises him by pushing him onto the mattress. He lands in the middle of the bed and she notices something shiny on his cheeks, but doesn’t pry further since his whole body sports a healthy flush and his cock is still hard.

 

She fetches the box from the floor. A silk blindfold in hand, she joins him on the bed and kisses his flushed chest. The red makes a most excellent contrast with his pale skin, and she nibbles on the free portions between the ropes, slowly reaching his mouth, biting at his bottom lip. He’s looking at her with imploring eyes, and she’s almost sorry to blindfold him at this point of their game, but she does it nonetheless. She caresses his forehead, the jut of his nose, his high cheekbones, and brings her fingertips to his luscious mouth, slowly massaging where she bit not long ago.

 

“Open up,” she commands him, and he already knows what he has to do.

 

She pushes index and middle finger between his full lips, letting him coat them with his spit. After she extract her fingers from his mouth, he hooks both arms under his knees and pushes both his legs up until they meet his chest, exposing himself to her. Her wet fingers probe between the cleft of his ass, separating the ropes nestled there and massaging his puckered hole until he moans. She pushes lightly against his furl with a wet fingertip, seeking entrance.

 

“Good boy,” she intones for him, and he’s lost, relaxing completely, his ass greedily engulfing her middle finger.

 

Rey probes around carefully, trying to avoid his prostate on purpose, but it’s there, hard and needy, within reach. Every time she accidentally brushes it, he squirms around her, crushing her digit with his inner muscles, so she decides to extract it and proceeds to coat her hand with a generous amount of lube. He moans when she penetrates him again, with two fingers this time, his ass pulsing around her.

 

Again, she keeps her pads away from where he needs them the most, concentrating her movements on loosening his tight hole: it’s been a while since they’ve played with toys. At the third digit, he whines, squirming so much that he doesn’t even manage to keep his legs spread anymore, and she has to shift her position to keep them open with her left arm.

 

“Please– Ah! Rey,” he moans, getting rewarded with the well lubed tip of their new plug, all silky and smooth, slowly penetrating his ass.

 

He keeps writhing while Rey fucks him with the plug, slowly and with the utmost care, until his ass is finally loose enough to accept the whole toy. His limbs spasm when it nestles against his prostate, and she coos at him, making him blush anew.

 

“Can I touch?” he pleads, moving his hands towards his cock, now leaking precum down his shaft.

 

“Of course not,” she answers, blocking him and tying his wrists together with another length of rope, securing them around the upper knot she’s made over his chest.

 

“Please.”

 

She doesn’t answer him, proceeding to tie his legs together, from knees to calves, in order to make it difficult for him to move too much.

 

“Now you’ll be a good boy while I put these in your ears,” she announces, fetching two earplugs from the box, the kind that are used daily by construction workers. They should isolate him from any kind of sound, helping the plan she has concocted to take shape.

 

Since he can’t see what she’s putting in his ears, she checks on him through the bond: he’s a little intimidated by the foreign sensation at first, but after the plugs begin to work, he’s surprised in a pleasant way. She already suspects that his sensations will be heightened without being able to rely on his sight and hearing, and the yelp he emits while she plucks at his stiff nipples is priceless.

 

She scratches him lightly with her nails, covering every morsel of skin that’s not wrapped up by those beautiful ropes, from shoulders to calves. She kisses his lips one last time, erecting her mental walls (in case he’ll look for her through the bond) and abandons the bed, box in her hands. Even if his ears are plugged, she feels the need to walk quietly until she reaches the small sofa positioned at the other side of the bedroom, sitting down and making herself comfortable. In front of her, the most interesting afternoon.

  
  


It takes a while for Ben to finally understand that she could not be with him anymore. His erection has waned several times in the last thirty minutes, but everytime he moves, his plug shifts with his whole body, brushing against his prostate and awakening his cock again and again. Everytime it happens, he moans, lost in the pleasure of finally being stimulated where he’s needing it the most.

 

She can perceive his thoughts, while he can’t even locate where she is, thanks to the mental walls she’s finally able to erect against him, after years of meditation and daily training under his uncle’s guidance. He’s desperate for her touch, but when it’s clear that she’s left him alone, something dark awakens in him, making him harder than ever. She can’t exactly pinpoint what in this whole situation is so appealing to him, but she’s more than happy to indulge him in bringing his deepest fantasies to life.

 

She activates the remote control for the vibrating buttplug at a random time, after he’s been on his back for more than ten minutes and she fears he’s fallen asleep (even if his cock is still at half-mast).

 

“Rey!” he cries, his back arching from the bed, his voice hoarse after moaning for more than half an hour.

 

She sets the vibration on the lowest setting, a continuous and faint buzz coming from his prone, writhing form. Even from several meters of distance, she can clearly discern a bead of precum leaving his glans, its tendril steadily shining in the faint lights on the room.

 

He’s a masterpiece. But she doesn’t intend to let him come yet, turning the controller off right before he can be tipped over the edge. He’s on his back again, panting, his whole body shiny with perspiration, and she has to resist the desire to join him on the bed, licking the salt from his skin and riding his hard cock. Her clit begins tingling and she crosses her legs on the sofa, squeezing her thighs. This is definitely not about his pleasure anymore.

 

Ben tries to get on his belly, but to no avail since his arms are tied to his chest and they keep getting in the way, so he turns on his side, clearly uncomfortable, and then on his back again. This makes her proud of the harness she’s managed to set around him. He humps the hair, cock bouncing lazily between his legs, but he stops almost immediately, a frustrated groan leaving his lips. The second time she turns the controller on (medium setting, rhythmic buzz) he wails, and the crotch of her panties gets drenched. She manages to turn it off again, before he can come, but the need to touch herself is quickly becoming overwhelming. She sneaks a hand between her legs, over her leggings, slowly massaging her swollen lips through the fabric.

 

He’s visibly frustrated, and she speeds the hand between her legs. He huffs, pants, writhes on their bed, without managing to get relief from the torture he’s craved so much. There is a small puddle of precum coating his belly now, and Rey sighs in tandem with him when she  decides it’s time for him to finally come. She frees her soaked cunt from her panties, fingers finally exploring her swollen folds, and she turns the controller on for the last time, its setting on maximum speed and intensity.

 

Ben calls for her, shouting her name. She’s grateful for his earplugs, since she knows that he’s used to restraining himself when they’re together so as to avoid being too loud. She’s never before seen or heard him being so wild in his pleasure, so free to debase himself, finally unfettered from any kind of psychological restraint he’s used to chastise himself with. He’s not a simple man, he comes with one of the heaviest baggages of the Galaxy, almost tangible during their daily life (sex activities included). But now, in almost total sensory deprivation, his baggage vanishes, making space for this sensual creature, completely uncaring about anything around him, finally free to be himself.

 

He’s coming, and it’s one of the most incredible experiences of Rey’s life. Mouth still open in a silent cry, muscled back arched off of the bed and long legs trembling, his cock shouts white ropes all over his beautiful chest, still constricted in the complex harness she’s put him in. A touch of her middle finger on the side of her clit is enough to take her over the edge in tandem with him, in a haze on white skin, red ropes and black, shiny hair. She will not forget this orgasm anytime soon, the divine image of him completely unleashed forever burned on her retinas.

 

But her post orgasmic bliss soon gets interrupted by a sob coming from his supine form. Of course, it’s not the first time he gets overwhelmed after one of their sessions, but this time Rey can’t help feeling a bit selfish, since she’s taken her pleasure without concentrating on him and him alone, when he should have been the recipient of the whole scene. She turns the controller off for the last time, hastily cleaning her hand (swill wet from her juices) on a napkin and running towards their bed, towards his slumped over body.

 

She joins him and he jumps, not expecting her to be by his side so soon. Her mental walls crumble while she frees him from his earplugs and blindfold, and she hugs him tight, kissing at the tears still flowing from his closed eyes, and projecting all the love she feels for him directly through their bond. He keeps crying, but his heart sings, his baggage flowing away with his tears. She’s inundated with a shock of raw emotions from him, from love to humiliation, from adoration to helplessness, and she keeps kissing him, murmuring sweet nothings in his ears and rocking his tired body.

 

The next step is freeing his limbs, and she starts with his legs, untying and massaging them. After she frees his arms , he envelopes her in one of his warm hugs, full of love and gratitude. They kiss again, and Rey relaxes, enjoying the press of his full lips against hers, running her nails on his scalp and whispering what a good boy he is between pecks on his cheekbones. His eyes are shining, but not from the tears he’s shed before; he looks genuinely happy, and she hugs him tight again, so as to shelter him from every evil of the Galaxy.

 

“Thank you,” he murmurs in her hair, long nose tickling the lobe of her ear.

 

“I feel I should be the one thanking you,” she replies. “My good boy.”

 

He can’t help smiling again.

  
  


The following week, they’re in the turbolift again, returning from another reunion, and she receives a communication for him on her commlink.

 

“Senator, there is another delegation that would like to talk to you,” she announces to him.

 

He turns in her direction, a painted eyebrow lifted in surprise.

 

“They’re from Roon, another group advocating the unsafety of vaccines, Sir,” she adds, trying to not laugh.

 

“Nononononono,” he shakes his head. “Tell them I’m busy– No, tell them that I’m tangled. In obligations.”

 

Rey erupts into laughter, uncaring about the security cameras for once.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> [Vine silk](http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Vine-silk)   
>  [Doan](http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Doan)   
>  [Western reaches](http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Western_Reaches)   
>  [Idolian fever](http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Idolian_fever)   
>  [Bantha wool](http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Bantha_wool)   
>  [Roon](http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Roon)
> 
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> 
>  
> 
> You can find me on tumblr: persimonne.tumblr.com  
> on pillowfort: pillowfort.io/persimonne  
> twitter: persimonne666


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